Hera took a step back as her heart raced. "I can't do it," she spoke softly. "I won't either."
A sound came from the trees and Faren stepped back into view, his bow half pulled and his eyes calm and watchful under the hood.
"Leave her alone," he said softly.
Nalia turned her gaze to him. Her brow furrowed. "You're handy with that bow," she said slowly. "And you stand next to her… does that mean you know who she really is?"
Faren said nothing, he just tightened his fingers on the string.
Nalia narrowed her eyes. "A cloaked and former miner with a bow… and a wanted woman. What else are you hiding here?"
Faren's tone was calm, but had an iron edge to it. "This is your last chance, mage. Turn around and walk away."
Nalia thinned her lips. "I can't. You know I can't."
She raised her staff, and the earth beneath her feet shook—small stones rolling across the forest floor. Faren's bow twanged, but Nalia was already in motion. When she raised her staff, a wave of earth whipped up behind it, sending the arrow clattering aside.
Hera ducked back, as the ground itself rose between them—jagged rocks lancing towards Faren. He moved like the wind of the forest, weaving and slipping through the spaces, his cloak flaring behind him as he loosed another bow.
The arrow struck the ground at Nalia's feet, shattering it, but leaving her unscathed. She looked up, her breath quickened, and ragged.
"An elf," she said softly. "I thought I didn't believe the rumors... but now I see it with my own eyes."
Faren's shoulders lifted as he sighed, letting the hood slip back to reveal the pointed ears, the pale hair that shined in the dappled light.
"I can't hide it anymore," he said simply.
Nalia's eyes widened. "Why... why would an elf stand beside a wanted woman? What kind of place is this?"
Faren's voice was low, but every word was clear. "This is Eclion. A place of refuge. But if you keep insisting, Nalia... you are going to force me to end this here."
Hunter stepped out of the trees; calm, yet imposing. Behind him was Arwin, Rhea, and Luenor. Though in the plain folk clothes of the village, they possessed the understated mantle of the Sureva name.
Nalia's eyes widened and she took them in, the silent dark-haired girl with a smoldering look in her eye, and the young man with an easy nobility. "The Surevas...you're alive," she said, a glimmer of hunger sliding across her face.
Hunter's gaze remained steady and cold. "Think carefully," he said, his tone as steady as the breath of the forest. "If you try for a bounty, you will not leave this forest alive."
His aura pulsed like a rupture in time, quiet, merciless pressure. The very air seemed to squeeze against Hunter, shadows twisted deeper. Nalia's breath caught in her throat, and the staff slipped from her fingers. It clattered to the ground.
Time stood still.
Finally, Luenor stepped forward. Her eyes passed over Hera, reviewing her for any injuries. A small reassuring nod—she was fine.
Satisfied, he turned his attention to Nalia, his voice low but firm. "Do your job, Nalia. Do what you came for. Before you leave Eclion you will sign another mana contract that binds you to silence on what you've seen."
Nalia's jaw clenched, her pride battling with the plainly visible danger in Hunter's calmly biting gaze. But, in the end, she only nodded, her voice a small murmur. "Fine. I will...I will do as you ask."
Hunter stepped forward, pulling her away. "Come on." His voice was gentle. "The bandits need you more than this argument."
Rhea watched them leave, worry written on her face. She turned to Luenor, her voice low. "How long will you keep it a secret, Lui? How long will you hide what we are?"
Luenor met her gaze, but the answer was lost in the heavy storm of everything that had happened. He said nothing. His silence screamed louder than any words could hope to.
He turned, the pristine silence of the forest absorbed his footsteps as he walked away.
__
In the heart of the forest, time itself seemed to stand still. The forest light danced along the foliage above. Around him, the leaves softly rustled to a light breeze.
Luenor stopped at the edge of a small clearing and inhaled sharply when he saw Lyssari kneeling in the soft earth—her hands outstretched—as if fiercely beckoning the mana of the forest to her palms, towards her staged piles of leaves scattered about.
She bit her lip in concentration. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of her temple and into her ear as she leaned slightly forward. The leaves stirred and vibrated… and fell still again.
For Luenor, something like quiet wonder filled him with a peaceful feeling as he watched. She never stopped trying, he thought. Even when it looks impossible.
He felt a spark of inspiration in her never-ending determination, a grain of an idea forming in his head.
He turned along the pathway, as his thoughts cinematically moved around like wind through the trees. He ambled down the path, only half aware of his motion, his feet finding a pattern to a rhythm he did not and could not understand.
It was only when he reached the mouth of the mines—dark and foreboding, especially in the late afternoon—when he registered how far he had journeyed.
Dion was there, leaning against a post, his bow slung over his shoulder. He raised an eyebrow when he saw Luenor.
"Lost, Sir Luenor?" Dion asked, his voice light but curious.
Luenor shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Just… walking," he said. "Thinking."